


Some Blackbird's Wing

by the_names_of_those_who_love_the_lord



Category: Beavis and Butt-head, Daria (Cartoon)
Genre: Graduation, I mean they're in senior year, M/M, Older Characters, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:20:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24146536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_names_of_those_who_love_the_lord/pseuds/the_names_of_those_who_love_the_lord
Summary: "So, we're, like....soulmates," he said at last."Yeah," Butt-Head replied, picking at his nails.
Relationships: Beavis/Butt-head, Jane Lane/Daria Morgendorffer, Mr. Van Driessen/Coach Buzzcut (implied)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 43





	Some Blackbird's Wing

**Author's Note:**

> I'm kind of putting this thing out into the world raw - it's like 15,000 words long and I was getting sick of keeping it to myself. I'll be in and out over the next few days fixing stuff, so don't mind me. I hope you all like it. I was worried about keeping everyone in character while making them more mature - I hope it came out well.
> 
> Title is from the classic Willie Nelson/Emmylou Harris song 'Gulf Coast Highway', which Beavis and Butt-Head should know, seeing as how it features the classic Texan bluebonnet.

April in Texas, twenty-five degrees Celsius at half-nine in the morning and set to climb higher. Bluebonnets swaying in a thin breeze on the side of the highway. Listless in the clouded heat, Butt-Head stared out the window and thought about the lake.

"....You're not listening," Mr. Van Driessen said. "Butt-Head? I asked you what you would like to do after you finish school."

"Oh. Um." Butt-Head blinked. "Beavis, do you wanna go swimming later?"

A couple of people spluttered half-smothered laughs. Beavis grunted, swinging his head around to glare at everybody to shut them up. Mr. Van Driessen sighed.

"I meant when you leave high school for good, in a week's time. What are you going to do?"

Butt-Head lifted and dropped one shoulder. It was way too hot for this crap. "I dunno."

"He could donate his hydrocephalus to science," someone muttered.

"Hey, knock it off," Van Driessen snapped. "Butt-Head, we'll come back to you. Beavis?"

Beavis gripped the sides of his table so hard his knuckles went white and chittered, his jaws working back and forth.

"Alright. Stewart, what about you?"

The class moved on. Butt-Head leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes. 

* * *

"You were a little faded back there," Beavis told him, calm now that they were alone.

Butt-Head kicked at the water. "It's the heat, dude. The schools should close anytime the mercury goes past eighty."

"Do you really not know what you're gonna do once school's over?"

Butt-Head cut his eyes at him. "Do _you,_ dumbass?"

Beavis snickered. "Sure I do. I'm gonna work at Burger World 'til I fall asleep on the job one night and flop headfirst into the fryer. Deep-fried Beavis!" He warmed to his theme, putting on a hotdog-seller-at-the-big-game voice: "Rrrrrrroll up, ladies and gentlemen! _Come_ and _get_ your deep-fried Beavis! Frrrrrrreshly killed in a senseless workplace accident!Come and get -"

"Shut up, dipwad," Butt-Head laughed, swatting at him. "I'd pull you out. You'd just get a little crusty." 

"Well, does that mean you're gonna work the rest of your life at Burger World, too?"

Butt-Head frowned. His good humour vanished like a bug sucked into a vacuum cleaner. "Well, y'know, I guess that's what I'll be doing for the summer...."

"Me too. Heh heh heh heh."

"....But I don't wanna do that forever. I mean, there's other stuff out there, right?"

"Hmm." Beavis wriggled his toes in the water. "You could try working at the Maxi Mart. That way, you might get killed in a two-dollar robbery. That'd be cool."

Butt-Head grunted. "I don't wanna watch the weiners turning on the grill all day."

"What about Taco Yummo?"

"Nah. Don't you remember what Earl told us when he worked there last July? All the ingredients come freeze-dried. He did nothing the whole month but pour boiling water on kidney beans and chicken strips. Said he never wants to see beans again as long as he lives." He blew away a fly that was courting the sweat at his hairline. "It might ruin the tacos for me. I don't need to know what goes into 'em."

"Huh." Beavis thought for a moment. "Blood bank."

Butt-Head shuddered. "Hard fucking pass. I'd end lives."

"A blood bank is no place to die," Beavis concurred. "Okay, what about the military?"

Butt-Head wordlessly pointed at his bulging cranium. 

"Huh!" Beavis frowned at him. "I'm sorry, but your standards are officially way too high. What are you waiting for? I mean, you gotta do something."

Butt-Head shrugged, feeling a little desperate. "You wanna go in?"

Beavis cackled and slid off the pier. Butt-Head followed suit. There was a splash that sounded like the roar of a monster in their ears, and then the freezing silent dark. Butt-Head hung there, kicking blindly, thinking, _If I drown here, all my problems will be solved._

Then he broke the surface with a gasp. Treading water, he looked around and saw Beavis shoot up like a dolphin, laughing and coughing. His wiry blond hair lay flat on his skull. Butt-Head squinted against the sun and dismissed all thought of the future. 

* * *

Mr. Van Driessen called them back as they walked out of homeroom with the rest of the class. The boys glanced at one another, rolled their eyes, and slouched back, slamming the door shut behind them.

"No need for the faces, gentlemen." Van Driessen leaned against his desk and pulled two printouts from his pocket. Perusing them, he said, "Your grades are pretty good this quarter."

Butt-Head glowered at him. Beavis stared at the Our Solar System poster on the wall, rotating his tongue on the inside of his cheek.

"I was wondering," Van Driessen continued, "what you guys are doing next September."

Beavis snickered. "We're coming back here, piss-for-brains! Right after Labor Day."

"Beavis, you idiot, we can't come back next year! We'll have graduated!"

"Butt-Head, there's no need to take that tone," Van Driessen said, "but you're right." He smiled at them. "You guys worked so hard this year, and it's paid off. I had been afraid that we wouldn't be able to ever get you both out of the school. Have you applied to any colleges?"

"Do you know how expensive college is?" Butt-Head growled. 

"It costs, like, a million dollars!" Beavis squawked. He sprang to his feet and began to pace back and forth. "We did everything you said, asshole! You were all, Hey, Beavis, Butt-Head, if you don't study your butts off this year, you're gonna be in high school forever! And we listened! It was hard!" He stamped his little foot on the tiles and roared, "We _learned to read_ for you, asshole! We've earned the right to never go near school ever again!"

Van Driessen held up his hands, as though Beavis were a rogue longhorn heading in his direction. "Woah, woah, woah! It's alright! I was just asking!"

"Settle down, Beavis." Butt-Head grabbed his trembling arm and manhandled him back into his seat. "He's got a point though, Mr. Van D. We don't wanna spend the next four years of our lives starin' at books. We've done our time."

The teacher took off his glasses and cleaned them with his shirt-tail. Without them, he looked like a stranger. "I appreciate the effort you've both made to get your grades up, I really do. And I know you're not the most academic of students. I'm only worried that you guys will suffer without a routine." He put his glasses back on, turning back into regular old Van Driessen. "Let me put it simply: what do you both want to be when you grow up?"

Beavis's mood changed immediately. "Hey, whaddaya know! Butt-Head 'n me were just talking about that last Friday."

Butt-Head curled his lip. "Shut up, Beavis."

"No, you shut up, dillweed, I'm thinking. Hmm....I'm gonna work at the Burger World for the rest of my life, and Butt-Head, quite frankly, doesn't know what he wants to do."

"Beavis!" Butt-Head wished the walls would cave in and take him out of his misery. "You weren't supposed to tell!"

"Oh. Wasn't I? Heh. Sorry, drive through."

Van Driessen just looked at them, his eyes small and sad behind the thick lenses. "For the rest of your life? Really?"

"Until I fall into the deep-fat fryer," Beavis added happily.

Van Driessen's shoulders slumped. "Oh, boy." He walked around and sat behind his desk, propping his chin up on his folded hands. "Boys, I know that third-level education can be prohibitively expensive. What about community college? Or night school? There's so much more to the world than Highland."

Butt-Head stared at him. "Uh, yeah, but why should it matter? It's not like either of us is ever gonna leave."

He wished he hadn't said it, because Van Driessen seemed to deflate like a football stuck with a pin. He looked at his desk for a moment, his brows drawn up, then shook his head and said, "Gentlemen, I've kept you long enough. Run along. Spanish, isn't it? What are you doing these days?"

Butt-Head was ashamed of having hurt him, so he answered politely. "Nothing much, sir. We're watching _Lambada: The Forbidden Dance._ "

"Mr. Herrera must be counting down the days to his trip back home to Monterrey. You tell him I said to hang in there."

"We will, sir." Butt-Head shook Beavis, who was still muttering to himself. "C'mon, Beavis. He's cutting us loose."

"....A _million_ dollars...." Beavis griped, as he was steered out the door. 

* * *

That night, home from Burger World, slumped exhausted in their filthy uniforms on their busted-up couch, Beavis said, "Van Driessen was acting real weird today, wasn't he?"

"Yeah, really," Butt-Head agreed. "Jesus. As if we haven't had enough school to last us until the sun explodes."

"I know!" Beavis threw his legs out in front of him and held them stiff until they shook. "The sun'll explode! The earth will burst into f-f-flames! Fire! Fire! _Fire!!"_

"Settle down, Beavis," Butt-Head murmured. He felt around underneath him and fished the remote out of the gap between the cushions. "I'm surprised you still have juice left in your after work. God, isn't it just our luck to get a busload of Little Leaguers ten minutes before closing?"

"Well, you better get used to it," Beavis warned.

Butt-Head switched on the TV set and side-eyed him. "What do you mean?"

"Well...." Beavis wrinkled up his face, then smoothed it out, then wrinkled it again. It was endearing. "If you don't decide what to do with your life, you'll have to spend all eternity working at Burger World, with Little Leaguers too hungry to choose something to eat and old ladies throwing their burgers at you when you get their orders wrong." He sat back in the cushions and gave Butt-Head a critical look. "Is that what you'd like?"

Butt-Head turned his gaze to the screen, trying to focus on Metallica's latest video. The sense of vague panic that he'd felt at the lake was back. "Uhhh....do I have to decide _now?"_

"I'm just sayin', if Burger World is your destiny, you better get used to it." Beavis kicked off his shoes and tucked his feet beneath himself. "All this talk about the future is making my head hurt. For now, let's worry about whatever the fuck Danzig is doing with his hair. How has he managed to make himself look like Dolly Parton?"

* * *

Beavis pointed at Stewart's t-shirt with his fork and said, mouth full, "One time Winger was on MTV, and I said they sucked ass, and boom! They weren't a thing anymore."

Stewart raised an eyebrow. "Your point being?"

"I said they sucked, and their careers went down the toilet. What I'm saying is, I'm the god of coolness. I say what's cool and what's not." Beavis leered. "They weren't cool, so I cursed 'em. Anyway, why do you still wear their merch?"

"I like the design, Beavis."

"The design _sucks!"_

Stewart shook his head and chewed on gristle. Butt-Head observed the conversation, feeling amazed - as he often did nowadays - that Stewart hung out with them at all. He had piled on muscle and shot up nine inches the summer before their junior year, whereas they had only gone up a half-inch each. Stewart could have beaten them a stone lighter for all the shit they'd done to him when they were younger, but he seemed to have forgotten all that.

"Hey, Stevenson," he barked. "Question."

Stewart nodded.

"Why do you like us so much? We were shits to you. For years."

"Yeah, but you're not shits now."

"I know, but we only stopped treating you bad because you turned into fuckin' He-Man. I mean, look at you." Butt-Head paused. "I don't think, if we had that time to live all over again, we would treat you the same way we did. Like, if someone took our today brains, and put them in our freshman-year bodies, we would probably be nice to you. But my point is, you could eat lunch with literally anybody. You could have ditched us months ago."

"And you should have, too!" Beavis admonished him, waving a corndog around. "You have such bad taste in bands _and_ friends!"

Stewart gazed thoughtfully into the middle distance. "Well, I guess it's because everyone else picked on me back when I was short and chubby. Nobody ever came to my birthday parties....except for you guys. Nobody ever called by my house....except for you guys. Were you assholes? Yeah, sometimes. But you were there, y'know?" He too a sip of his apple juice. "Now, everybody wants to know me, and they're all nice to be, but it's fake. You guys didn't put on an act when I came back to school in junior year. I remember, you were etching your names into your lockers, and I said 'hey, guys', and you both looked up and said, 'Hey, dumbass, your t-shirt's gotten too small for you'. Nothing had changed."

Butt-Head sat back and considered this. Beavis tried to stab his peas onto his fork. They kept rolling away. He gave up and began to eat them with his hands.

"But we _have_ changed," Butt-Head said eventually. "We've gotten taller. We're _kinda_ smarter. I got some of the fluid drained from my skull last summer."

"That came later," Stewart replied. "At the time, you were the only guys with the balls to treat me the way you always had, so I stuck with you. I wouldn't miss hanging out with you for the world. That reminds me - where are you headed after graduation this Friday?"

"Work," the boys replied, in unison.

Stewart laughed. "No, I mean next September. Are you going to college?"

"Uhh....what are you doing?"

"Well, my dad says that if I do a business degree, I can slot into a junior role in his company, but I don't know. I wanna do my own thing."

"You could play football someplace," Beavis pointed out. "Maybe not quarterback, you haven't been at it long enough, but you'd make first team."

"Thank you, Coach," Stewart replied, deadpan. "But seriously, what are you guys gonna do?"

The boys looked at one another.

"Work," they repeated.

* * *

Burger World was quiet. It was the graveyard shift, which the boys had taken because graduation was four days away and they didn't have any homework. Plus, it paid extra, and Butt-Head had been feeling antsy about the rent.

"You ever eat the food here?" Beavis asked Butt-Head, who snorted.

"Uh, not unless I've made it myself. This place is a dump." He went to the cupboard and pulled out the mop and bucket. "Dude, let's try and make the kitchen a little less of a health hazard while nobody's here. I like to keep a clear conscience, y'know?"

An hour later, they surveyed their work, panting. The fan had cut out six months earlier, and without it, the kitchen was a foul-smelling sauna. Beavis sighed.

"I dunno, Butt-Head. It just feels like all we've done is push the dirt around. What good does it do? We're so low on bleach, I could only use half a capful on the entire floor. And that mop's been here since the first Bush administration."

"I know." Butt-Head gave the bucket a disconsolate kick. "God, I can't believe our boss gets away with it. You'd think he'd have gotten his shit together after all those kids died of salmonella from the Jack-in-a-Box across town."

"See, that could be something for you to take care of if you stayed on at Burger World. You could knock the place into shape."

"You think so?"

"I mean, you keep your house all neat and stuff."

Butt-Head smiled at him. "You help."

"Oh, I guess I do. Heh heh."

Butt-Head hopped up on the counter. "Remember when we were, like, fourteen, and my mom had just left, and you started coming over all the time? The house wasn't so clean then!"

Beavis grinned. "I pulled back one of the couch seats one time, because I thought I lost a quarter back there, and a squillion flies came out."

"I looked under your bed once, 'cos I couldn't find my church shoes," Butt-Head replied, "and I found a dead rat." He picked at a scab on his knee. "How did we live like that?"

"We didn't know any better. I think we managed pretty good. I mean, we didn't die."

"We did not," Beavis agreed. "We got scabies, and fleas, and I had to visit the hospital after you dared me to eat the mould that was growing in the kitchen, but we survived."

"How come you never invite me over to your house?" 

Beavis frowned at him. "Aw, knock it off, Butt-Head. You know what my stepdad's like."

"Uh, no, but I sure know what your _mom's_ like."

This earned him a swat of the mop. He slid off the counter, cackling. Beavis growled at him: "Shut up and help me get the fries on. The stoners'll be here in a half-hour."

* * *

"Hey, guys," Cassandra called out over the hubbub of the school bus. "What are you doing after school?"

The boys swung their heads around, scowled, and replied, "We. Don't. Fucking. Know."

"Oh, I don't mean after you leave school forever," Cassandra said, unperturbed. "I mean after you leave school today! Do you have work?"

"No," Beavis told her, sitting up and peering over the back of the seat. 

"Good! Because my little sister is having a birthday party at the skate park tonight and my mom said I could bring friends to keep myself sane. Would you like to tag along? I'll see if I can sneak us some beers."

"Sounds good to me," Butt-Head told her. "Will there be hot chicks?"

"Am I not a chick?"

"I meant straight chicks."

"I dunno, Butt-Head. That's a pretty lesbian quiff you got going on."

"Huh huh huh. But seriously, Cass, will there be chicks? I wanna score before I'm twenty."

"I'm sorry, Butt-Head. It'll only be my little sister's friends."

Butt-Head flipped his hand at her to signal that no harm was done and flopped back down beside Beavis, who said, "Twenty? Giving yourself a lotta room, buttwipe."

"Women run from me, assnugget. Give me some time to work on myself. Besides, it's not like you're having any luck in the babes department."

"Hey, no, I got lucky once! Last August at the lake!"

"That was only Spin the Bottle. Remember how she pushed you away and ran to wash her mouth out?"

"Well, remember when the bottle landed on _you,_ and that other girl felt sick all of a sudden and called her mom to come get her?"

They lapsed into bad-tempered silence for a while. Finally, as the high school came into sight, Beavis patted Butt-Head's shoulder and said, "Look, I'm sorry. That girl was bein' a bitch. You'll get lucky one of these days."

"Soon, I hope," Butt-Head replied dourly. "I'm getting real tired of us being the only virgins graduating this year."

The bus juddered to a halt, and they joined the throng of teenagers flowing into school. The sky had a shine on it, as though polished by the heat of the sun.

* * *

They got to the skate park at a few minutes past nine. It was dark, but they could see shapes moving around in the steel pit, and laughter bubbled up to them. Cassandra came stomping up to meet them, wringing her hands.

"Guys, I'm sorry," she said, breathless with anger. "I tried hiding the beer, I really did, but Paula found it and passed it around to all her friends."

"Woah." Beavis craned his head to see the mass of teenagers in the dark of the pit. "Are they really drunk?"

Cassandra snorted. "I should hope not. There were only six bottles in there. The only thing they're drunk on is youthful misadventure."

Butt-Head felt a little cheated - he'd been looking forward to getting mildly smashed with her and Beavis - but he knew it wasn't her fault. "Aw, what the hell. It's her birthday. Let's head on down and see if these shrimps know how to party." 

They walked towards the pit and skidded down the edges. The crowd in the middle separated out into individuals. One of them came galloping forward, revealing itself to be Cassandra's little sister Paula. When she saw them, she whooped.

"Oh my God, no way! I didn't think you guys were still alive!"

"Paula!" Cassandra hissed, running her index finger along her throat. "Don't say that!"

"What do you mean?" Beavis asked, staring at the child with distrust.

"You're Beavis and Butt-Head! You guys are _legendary!_ I mean, I've seen what you carved onto the desks in the elementary school, and Mr. Anderson told my dad all the stuff you did, but I hadn't heard anything for months and there was a rumour going around that Todd killed you. But you're both alive! And you're here! At my party!" She called over her shoulder: "Hey! You'll never guess who these dudes are!"

In moments, the boys found themselves swarmed. Cassandra waded in, yelling, "They're not zoo exhibits, you insensitive little freaks!", but she was slight and small and the kids ignored her. They pressed in on Beavis and Butt-Head from all sides, jabbering at them. 

"Is it true you used to play baseball with frogs?"

"My big brother said he saw you beating on each other with wiffle bats and wearing bikinis - was he lying, or did that actually happen?"

"Did you really cut your finger off in shop class?"

"Did McVicker go insane because you both have, like, super annoying laughs? Can you do the laughs? Please?"

"Didn't you used to have a bigger head?"

"My mom said you only ever buy nachos at the Maxi-Mart, like, she's never seen you buy anything else, and...."

"....the police came to your house but...."

"....thinks you have schizophrenia because...."

Butt-Head began to sweat. He glanced over at Beavis, whose eyes were white and wild. His jaw worked like a piston as he ground his teeth. Butt-Head knew Beavis's body language like he knew his own, and he was just reaching for him when a spotty boy barged in front of him and yelled, "Do Cornholio!"

Everyone went quiet. Cassandra gasped. Butt-Head hissed as though stung. Beavis said, "What."

"Do Cornholio! You know what I'm talking about! That thing you used to do where you pulled your t-shirt over your head and talked in a funny voice! Earl told me about it one time, he said it was the funniest shit he'd ever seen, will you do it?"

Beavis began to hyperventilate. He made fists with his hands, flexed out his fingers, made fists again. Butt-Head made another, desperate attempt to grab him, but the kid pushed him aside and said, "C'mon, man, I'll start you off." He yanked the collar of his t-shirt over his head like a wimple and held his arms up at a ninety-degree angle. _"I am the great Cornholio, I need -"_

"YOUSONOFABITCHHOWDAREYOUIFUCKINGHATEDTHATSHITIFYOUDON'TCUTTHATOUTRIGHTNOWI'LL -"

Beavis threw himself at the boy, knocking him to the ground. Butt-Head drove for him and, with Cassandra's help, pulled him upright, but not before he'd gotten in a couple of competent punches. The boy lay stunned on the ground, cupping his bloodied nose in both hands. Grunting, Cassandra and Butt-Head dragged the apoplectic Beavis over to the rim of the pit. He was still screeching.

"- ANDTHENICAMETOANDTHEREWASNOBODYTHEREANDMYCLOTHESWEREALLTORNANDIDIDN'TKNOWWHEREIWASIWASSOFUCKINGSCAREDBUTIT'SJUSTAFUNNYJOKETOYOUISN'TIT -"

"Can you calm him down?" Cassandra asked him, her face blue-white with shock. "I'm sorry, I have to go back to them," and ran to the others.

Butt-Head didn't mind. He was the only person who could talk Beavis out of a rage and everyone knew it. He gently pushed him down into a sitting position and sat beside him, gripping his arms. "Shh. Shh-hh-hhh. Settle down."

Beavis subsided into a breathless babble, much quieter now that he'd let off steam: "It's not fair, it's just not fair, I don't see why it has to follow me around for the rest of my life, oh God did I hurt the kid? oh Christ I broke his nose didn't I didn't I Ben tell me the truth did I kill him? will they send me to jail? Ben tell me Benny what did I do -"

"You didn't kill him," Butt-Head replied briskly. "I don't think you even broke his nose. You just _lost_ it. Man, I haven't seen you lose it like that since sophomore year."

Beavis took a deep breath and sighed, long and raspy. When he was done, he was calm and sad. "Christ on a bike. I'm a prize prick, aren't I?" He got to his feet and extended a hand down to Butt-Head.

"Just go and apologise to the kid, dillweed. Explain yourself. He didn't know what the real situation was with the Cornholio thing, he only knew what everybody told him."

"You're right." Beavis strode on ahead and yelled, "Hey! Kid!"

The crowd of teenagers, with Cassandra muttering placations and threats, grudgingly parted and let him through. Butt-Head smiled to himself: they were getting a much cooler reception this time around.

"What the hell, man?" The boy stepped forward, pinching his nose. "I was only playing."

"I know. I'm sorry. I kinda overreacted." Beavis took a crumpled tissue from his trouser pocket and fussed at the boy's face. "You look really cool with all this blood on you. Like Michael Myers."

"Do I?" The boy smiled; praise from Caesar. "What's wrong with the whole Cornholio thing, man? Earl made it sound funny."

"Yeah, well, it was just a stupid thing I used to do. It's embarrassing, y'know?" Beavis scratched underneath his armpit, glancing at Butt-Head. "I don't like being reminded about it."

"Alright." The boy smiled at Beavis and tested his nose with a finger. "I think it's stopped bleeding. You punch like a son of a bitch."

Beavis, laughed, and the tension broke. The teens began to drift out of their defensive huddle. Someone turned the music back on. Cassandra gave Paula a quick hug and made her way over to them.

"Nicely played," she murmured.

Beavis grunted. "I don't have to lay my life story out for every little jackass who wants to see me do some idiotic voice and pull a shirt over my head."

"True." She went to pat him on the shoulder, but thought better of it. "I know this hasn't started well, but would you like to stick around? The night's still young."

Beavis glanced at Butt-Head, who shrugged and replied, "Sure. But, like, those little pipsqueaks better give us our space."

"I don't think they'll crowd you again, even if you are legendary."

"Huh. Well, good." Beavis shook his head and twitched. "Will there be cake?"

"Of course there will, silly."

"Then we'll stay. C'mon, Butt-Head. Let's sit out of the way somewhere."

They wriggled up onto the rim and sat there in silence, watching the party trundle on. Beavis heaved a sigh.

"Christ. That could've gone so much worse."

"It, uh, didn't go so great in the first place."

"You know what I mean." Beavis clunked his heels against the wall of the pit. "That fuckin' Cornholio shit again. I'm gonna kick Earl's ass when I see him."

"No you're not, buttmunch, he's twice your size." Butt-Head looked at Beavis from the corner of his eye. "Tell me something."

"Go ahead, but I reserve the right to slap you."

"Do you really not remember any of the times you went Cornholio?"

Beavis leaned back and spat onto the asphalt. "Nope."

"Like....never?"

"I dunno what to tell you, Butt-Head. I'd get all worked up on sugar or something, and my head would start ringing, and then I would kind of white out, and the next thing I knew, I'd be standing there in class or whatever with my shirt pulled over my head and you telling me to sit my ass down." He lay flat on his back and looked at the stars. "Sometimes I'd hear myself saying stuff, but it was like it was coming from another room. And then, once word got out about it, guys kept coming up to me going 'do the Cornholio, do the Cornholio', and I'd have literally no idea what they were talking about." He scowled at the night sky. "I know I shouldn't have laid out that kid, but he just brought it all back." He glanced up at Butt-Head. "Hey, thanks for helping me out."

Butt-Head snorted and looked away, feeling like a fool. "You were freaking out, dude. I can't whomp you every time you go crazy. It's bad for your brain. You need all the grey matter you have."

Beavis mumbled something and went back to stargazing.

A while later, the cake came out, and they ambled over to join in the singing. Everyone looked surprised when they appeared, but there was no friction between them and the kids. They chatted to some of them, talking about music. One of the boys tried to show them his Soundcloud, saying, "Can you spork it like you do music videos? That would be awesome', but they waved him off and moved over to the rim. Cassandra joined them.

"Good call," she said, nodding to the Soundcloud kid.

"He's not ready," Butt-Head replied, with the air of a sage. "We could tell just from looking at him that he hasn't had serious criticism yet."

"Couldn't you say something nice about it, just to fob him off?"

"We do not tell lies," Butt-Head intoned. "He is not ready to hear the truth."

"He is untried," Beavis agreed. "Anyway, I don't wanna stand around being a dick about some eighth-grader's mumble rap. Your mom bakes a good cake, Cass."

"I'll pass it on. Listen, this crowd is talking about moving the party back to our house. Do you wanna come follow us? It'll be fun. There'll be a little disco in the sitting room."

"It's sweet of you to offer, Cass, but true wisdom is knowing to quit when you're ahead." Butt-Head stood up and stretched. "Anyway, Beavis would probably perve on all those flat chicks."

"Would not!" Beavis squawked, struggling upright. "Although I am pretty tired. What time is it?"

"Eleven, I think."

"Woah! Way past my bedtime." Beavis grinned and leapt down from the rim. He gave Cassandra a kiss on the cheek. "Goodnight, Cass. I'm counting that losing my virginity, by the way."

Cassandra giggled and whapped him up the back of the head. "See you in school, guys. And my apologies again about earlier."

* * *

As they came up to the crossroads where they would normally split up to go to their houses, Beavis said, "Hey, can I sleep over tonight?"

Butt-Head raised his eyebrows. Beavis hadn't staying over since they were fourteen. "Uh, sure. Why, is your stepdad gonna be pissed about you coming in late?"

"No," Beavis replied. He sounded drained. "I just....my mom's gonna be able to tell that something happened, and she won't quit bugging me until I tell her, and if she finds out I hit a kid, she'll flip. I can't deal with that shit tonight."

"Understood." They trudged on without saying anything else. There was something wrong in the air, like the smell of smoke; a danger sensed, but not yet known. 

They got to the house; Butt-Head let them in. As he'd done since the burglary three years earlier, he did a quick reconnaissance to make sure everything was still there. Once satisfied, he padded back down the stairs to the kitchen, got a bag of nachos and some cheese, and set about making them both a snack.

He carried the nachos into Beavis, who was curled up on his side of the couch, staring blearily at the TV.

"It works better if you turn it on, dumbass," Butt-Head told him, setting down their food between them and switching on the set. "You're just not with it tonight, are you?"

"I'm tired," Beavis muttered. He took a chip and pushed it into his mouth, chewing it slowly. "Thanks for letting me stay over."

"It's not the first time you've hung your hat _chez_ Head," Butt-Head reminded him. He grabbed a fistful of nachos and, mouth full, asked, "What the hell is wrong with you? Is that thing that happened at the party?"

"Not that exactly." Beavis moved his nachos to the floor and stretched out. "Do you remember being that age?"

Butt-Head snorted. "Uh, it was four years ago, so I should hope I do, yeah."

Beavis looked at him, his eyes red-rimmed with exhaustion. "Do you think that was the best part of our lives?"

"So far?"

"Ever. Like, no matter what we do in the future, we're never gonna have as a good a time as we did back then. It's all downhill from there."

Butt-Head turned his gaze to the TV and thought about it. The more he did, the worse he felt. "You know, Beavis, it's hard to argue with your position. May I make some points, nonetheless?"

"Be my guest," Beavis grunted.

"Okay, so, we were stupid back then. We never knew what was going on. Are you saying that ignorance is better than, I dunno, awareness?"

"Like, I guess? I hate knowing stuff."

"Fair," Butt-Head conceded. "Second - people made fun of us all the time back then, because, as I said, we literally did not know shit. Was that fun for you? Was that your peak? Being made a fool of by the entire town?"

Beavis growled at him. "No, asswipe, of course not! But remember all our little adventures? They happened because we didn't know what we were doing, and they always turned out to be cool. We don't do that these days. It's like, we go to school, we go to work, and we go home! It sucks! And soon we won't even be able to go to school. There's no excitement anymore."

Butt-Head dug his fingernail into the couch fabric. "Okay, last one: I was a genuine, bona fide shit to you, like, up until last year. Does that factor into your conception of eighth grade as our Camelot or whatever?"

Beavis propped his head on the arm of the couch and closed his eyes. "Like that matters," he mumbled. "I never minded how you treated me. If it bothers you now, okay, fine, but you weren't that big an asshole. Y'know?" 

For a long while, the only sound was the tinny racket of MTV.

Butt-Head only woke up when his head hit the armrest. He straightened his back and blearily checked his watch. It was half-one in the morning. He glanced over at Beavis, who said something in his sleep and rolled onto his back. Sighing, Butt-Head undid the laces on his shoes and slid them off, setting them down beside the couch. He felt like he had something caught in his throat, and prayed he wasn't catching the flu. Graduation was on Friday, and he didn't want to miss it.

Beavis's face twitched, and he smacked his lips. On an impulse, Butt-Head cradled one of his socked feet in his hands. He ran his thumb over the ankle, feeling a fluttering pulse.

"Goodnight," he whispered. He levered himself to his feet as carefully as he could manage and crept out of the sitting room. He felt weird about sleeping on the couch with Beavis. They weren't kids anymore.

* * *

The alarm clock beeped. As usual, Butt-Head swiped at it to make it stop; as usual, it sailed off his dresser and bounced off the floor, falling apart.

"God fucking damn it," he growled, and hauled himself to his feet. Grumbling, he put the batteries back into the motor and clicked the plastic casing back on. The digital display flickered into life, showing 07:01.

Downstairs, he could hear a familiar, croaking voice yelling something. He went to the top of the stairs and listened:

"....No, Mom, I swear, I didn't get into trouble. I only stayed over at Ben's because I was too tired to - what?! I am not lazy! Look, if you must know, I was afraid he'd be lonely!" A brief pause, and then, louder, _"I am not shouting at you!"_

"You are, you know," Butt-Head called, leaning over the bannister. Beavis looked up, whitened, and gabbled, "Gotta go Mama bye love you!" He slammed the phone down and said, "Uh, good morning?"

"Morning," Butt-Head replied, smirking. "You up long?"

"Just half an hour," Beavis said, eyeballing him. "Sorry if I woke you up. Mom was chewin' me out for not coming home last night."

"Yeah. I heard." Butt-Head propped his chin on his hand. "So, I hear _Ben...._ is _lonely."_

Beavis's eyes skidded around in their sockets. "Aw, c'mon, Butt-Head, it was just an excuse. I didn't mean it."

"We had a deal, Beavis. Ten years ago, I kicked your ass until you agreed to call me Butt-Head. Then I kicked everyone else's ass until they called me Butt-Head."

"I know, I remember, but my mom -"

"You've been slipping, Beavis." Butt-Head paused. "Or should I say...."

Beavis pointed at him in warning. "Don't say it, or I swear to God, I'll bounce you from here to Houston."

"....Billy?"

Beavis shrieked and scuttled to the foot of the stairs. Butt-Head cackled and dashed back to him room, pushing the door shut and throwing himself against it. A second later, the drum of rapid footsteps rose to a crescendo; a moment after that, the handle began to wriggle in its socket, creaking as Beavis yanked on it. 

"Careful, Billy, you'll pull it out and I'll have to get the landlord in to fix it."

"I'll kill you! I mean it this time! You fucking bastard, I'll rip your head off!" Beavis gave up on the handle and began to push at the door with his shoulder, running up against it. "Let me in, asshole!"

Butt-Head waitied for the perfect moment, then sprang to the opposite wall. Beavis smashed up against the door and fell over the threshold. He landed with a boneshaking _thump_ and lay sprawled on the floor, groaning.

"Oh, hey Billy."

"Butt-Head," Beavis rasped, "you're being a little unreasonable. It's just a name."

"You're one to talk." Butt-Head crouched down and scrubbed the back of Beavis's skull with his knuckles. Beavis batted his hand a way and rolled over onto his back.

"Seriously," he said, "you make too big a deal out of it. There's nothing wrong with your birth name."

"Uh, yeah there is. It sucks."

"Hey, you got off lightly. Pity your cousin Richard." Beavis reached up and booped Butt-Head on the nose. "You're being a real dork over this."

Butt-Head giggled, twisting away. Beavis grinned at him. It was just like old times, back when they were fourteen, their halcyon days, play-fights breaking out every five minutes, laughing nonstop because the world was so funny, every day a new joke, and the old feelings were coming back to him, flooding him from his toes to his eyebrows, and it was like a knot coming loose -

Butt-Head stood up abruptly. Beavis stared at him, his smile gone; then he, too, got to his feet.

"Just don't call me that again," Butt-Head told him. "I need to get dressed. Make me some cereal, I'll be down in a minute."

* * *

It was their last ever gym class.

"I thought I'd be happier," Beavis said, affronted by his own feelings. He threw a basketball off the ground with a spiteful grunt. Stewart leaped to catch it on the rebound and threw it to Dean, who neatly popped it through the hoop.

"Excellent work, Dean and Stewart!" Coach Buzzcut yelled. "Beavis, if you disrespect a basketball like that again, I will kill you! Cassandra, are your legs broken? Get off the sidelines and hustle!"

Sighing, Cassandra sloped over and fell in behind Butt-Head. "It's the last day of class, Coach," she complained. "Can't we just hang around?"

Buzzcut stared at her as though she had suggested eating a baby. "Cassandra! Physical education is a joy and a privilege! You will treat it as such! Now, think fast and shoot me some hoops!" Thus saying, he tossed her the ball. She fumbled it. Butt-Head reached out, grabbed it, and passed it back to Stewart.

"Why don't you feel happy?" he asked Beavis, watching Stewart hold the ball out of Cassandra's reach. "Get him, Cass!"

Beavis shrugged. "I guess it's because this is, like, the last day Buzzcut is gonna yell at us. Yeah, dunk on her, Stewart!"

"Isn't four years of being yelled at enough for you? If you need a pick-me-up after graduation, just trespass on campus the way Todd does. He'll yell at you then, alright. Hell, if you're really lucky, he might beat the crap out of you."

Beavis sighed. "No, it wouldn't be the same. I mean - oop!" The basketball ricocheted his way. He caught it and, panicking, made a clumsy pass to Earl.

"Beavis! Butt-Head! You will have the rest of your lives to gossip! You have only the next twenty minutes of class to play ball with your classmates! I suggest you both prioritize!"

"Well, when you put it like that...." Butt-Head muttered, feeling slightly sick. He suddenly felt as though he was in a giant hourglass, watching as the minutes left in his school career trickled through the neck into eternity. "Hey, dillweed, get the ball off Stewart and pass it to me so I can get a shot at the hoop."

"Why?"

"Because I'm taller!"

"By two inches!"

"God damn it, Beavis, don't make me slap you!"

Afterwards, they all trooped into the shower room. Butt-Head dragged his feet and glanced with tender longing at the exit, but Buzzcut saw him and grabbed him by the collar. 

"Mr. Head! You smell like a working harbour! You will suffer the weak spouts of lukewarm water which pass for a shower! And you will do it with good grace, because after today, you need never wash again!"

"Hey!" Butt-Head snapped. "I bathe."

Buzzcut pinned him with a glare. "Now _that_ I do not believe! You have a choice: shower or garden hose! Choose!"

Butt-Head growled at him and sloped into the shower block.

Inside, there were naked bodies everywhere, flicking one another with towels and slithering on the tiles. Everyone was bigger than him, except Beavis. Butt-Head picked his way over to him, stepping over suspicious puddles.

Beavis was already out of his shirt. "Why don't you like showers?" he asked, looking in his gym bag for his anti-dandruff shampoo.

"Because," Butt-Head mumbled, "because the floor is, like, really dirty."

"Oh?" Beavis replied absentmindedly. "I didn't know you minded the dirt." So saying, he stripped off the rest of his clothes and dove beneath the water. "Aaagh! Coldcoldcold!!"

Butt-Head felt as though his face was about to ignite. He briefly considered showering fully clothed, but at that moment Buzzcut stuck his head through the door and yelled, "Butt-Head! You will go into that shower naked as the day you were born or you will face the hose!" Butt-Head flipped him off as soon as his back was turned and undressed himself, hoping to Christ that all his bits and pieces would behave.

He scuttled into the shower half-crouched and turned it on. It was freezing. He clung to the grimy wall and shivered, waiting for it to warm up. Finally, it was tolerable; he eased himself under and began to dash at himself with the soap.

Stewart appeared in front of him. Butt-Head yelped and grabbed at his towel to cover himself.

"Hey, it's only me. Have you heard the news?"

"What news?" Butt-Head spat, turning off the water so that the towel wouldn't get wet.

"Daria's back!"

"What? Daria? Right now?"

"It's true!" Cassandra called over the wall dividing the girls' showers from the boys'. "Kimberley saw her walking around town when she left campus for lunch earlier."

"Did she move back?" Beavis asked.

"No, she's just visiting. Kimberley asked her what she was doing back, and Daria told her that her aunt was laid up with a broken leg and she came up with her mom to help her."

"Huh," Butt-Head thought for a moment. "Hey, Beavis, do you wanna get your finger cut off on the last day of woodworking class, or do you wanna go on a Daria hunt?"

Beavis cackled. "We're there, dude."

Butt-Head stuck his head around the divider and grinned at him. At that moment, Buzzcut stuck his head back around the door and saw him.

"Mr. Head! If you do not turn that shower back on and get properly clean, I will rip the braces straight out of your mouth! Beavis! You better start thinking about baseball, or so God help me I'll chop it off!"

* * *

"Okay, so, like, if we were Daria, where would we go?"

"Dude, there's no way we can think like Daria, she's a million times smarter than us. Let's just ask around."

They asked everybody - Buddy in the sporting goods store, Earl smoking behind the mall, Lolita on her shift at the bowling alley, Mr. Anderson coming out of Toe Town. 

"Daria? Is that the girl who took the picture of you guys when you were in here four years ago trying on athletic supporters? No, haven't seen her."

"Daria? Nice legs, shame about the tits, am I right? Nope, haven't seen her since freshman year."

"Daria? I ain't ever even heard of her. And you know full well you're not allowed in here after your stunt with the bowling pin."

"What'd you say? Darla? She your girlfriend? Son, did you get some poor girl in trouble?"

Butt-Head sighed in frustration. "No, Mr. Anderson, I said - look, never mind." Beavis tittered; he shot him a warning look, which went ignored. "Tell Mrs. Anderson we said hello. We'll drop your lawnmower back to you when we get home."

"Well, I appreciate that." Their neighbour gave them a warm, myopic smile. "You two are a hell of a lot easier to live with than those damn Beaver and Buffcote kids who usedta live by me a while back. I wonder what happened to them boys?"

"Uh, I think they died. C'mon, Beavis."

"God," Beavis remarked, as they speedwalked down the street, "Anderson can't recognise us anymore."

"Well, I don't mind that at all," Butt-Head replied, scanning the street. "Dude, this sucks! I can't see her anywhere!"

"Why do you wanna find her so bad?"

"Because - well - oh, I dunno! It'd just be nice to see her again."

"See who?" someone behind them droned.

They whipped around. There stood Daria - taller, slimmer, wearing nicer clothes, but still her own unmistakable self.

They blinked at her, lost for words.

"Oh," she said, staring at them. "I am so sorry. I thought you guys were -"

"We are," Butt-Head interrupted, stepping forward. "Hey, Diarrhea."

She took off her glasses and cleaned them on the hem of her shirt, squinting at him. "Jesus. Butt-Head, is that you?"

"Yep. And here's Beavis, still just as much of an assmunch as he was the day you left."

"Cut it out, dillhole." Beavis grinned at Daria. "What, do we really look that different?"

"Well....yeah." Daria put her glasses back on and blinked at them. "Um, you're both way more....proportional."

Butt-Head smiled. "We really grew into our torsos during junior year."

She pointed at him. "And you used to look a little....how do I put this....swollen."

"Yeah, the doctor said that I was a medical miracle and he got the hospital to drain my skull for free."

"No. Hold on. I'm being tricked." She frowned at them. "The Beavis and Butt-Head I knew were never able to answer questions so cogently. You guys are lying to me."

"What? No way!" Indignant, Beavis yanked up his shirt. "Remember this scar? You were at the park with us the day I got it! Your mom got you to put pressure on it while she called 911!"

Daria's eyes widened. "I do remember. It really is you guys, huh?"

"Jesus, Daria, could you sound a little more enthusiastic? We've been looking for you, like, all afternoon."

"Hey, Butt-Head, be nice, you know she's glad to see us."

"Am I, Beavis? Am I?"

"Well, if you're not happy to see us, then why'd you follow us?" Butt-Head snapped.

"And if you're not happy to see me, then why were you asking for me all over town?" Daria retorted, crossing her arms.

"We weren't _asking_ for you, we just wanted to see if you were still a stuck-up little know-it-all, and guess what, we were right -"

"Guys, guys, guys!" Beavis interjected, putting himself between them. "C'mon, you don't see each other for years and this is how you behave? Apologise to each other."

"Make me, dumbass," Butt-Head growled.

The next two seconds were a painful blur. Butt-Head groaned and propped himself up on his elbows, blowing his hair out of his eyes. Beavis smirked down at him and balanced his foot on his chest.

"Say you're sorry or I'll curb-stomp you."

"That's not how curb-stomping works," Butt-Head snarled. Squinting up at Daria, he relented and said, "Sorry, Morgendorffer. I was being a jerk."

"And I was being a pain in the tail." Daria reached down to him and pulled him up. "Beavis, where'd you learn that?"

"I spent last June at my uncle's place in Wyoming," Beavis told her. He pulled a tissue out of his pocket, extended it to Butt-Head so that he could lick it, and dabbed at a scrape on his elbow. "My cousins all taught by example."

"Well, the student has truly become the master. You don't see ass-kicking like that in Lawndale."

"How's your aunt, anyway?" Butt-Head asked her, brushing the grit off his shirt.

Daria looked away. "Oh, she's, um, good. You know."

"I guess you wanna get back to her and your mom, huh?"

"What? Oh, no. Yeah. Mom actually said she didn't need my help, so I'm free to wander around for the rest of the day." She paused. "I suppose I was looking for you two. I wanted to see if you were...."

"Still alive?"

"Not exactly....I just wanted to know how you'd changed."

"Well, drink it in." Butt-Head gestured at himself with a smirk. "Hey, if you're free for the day, why don't you come over to my place?"

"Don't you guys have school?"

"It was a choice between looking for you or watching Beavis struggle not to touch the circular saw in woodwork. Anyway, who wants to waste a nice afternoon like this in class?"

"You know what? You're right. Lead the way, boys."

* * *

"So," Daria said, "you're graduating tomorrow."

"Yeah." Butt-Head frowned at the reminder. "Everybody keeps asking us what we're gonna do afterwards."

"I presume you have some kind of anarchic celebration planned."

"Well, first of all," Beavis said, "you presume wrong, because we've got work tomorrow night. Second, Butt-Head means after we leave school. Like, for good."

"I see." Daria kept her eyes on the pavement as they walked along. "And you don't know, do you?"

"I know what I'm doing," Beavis replied, before Butt-Head had a chance to open his mouth. "I'll be working at Burger World until the day I die in a workplace -"

" _Shut up,_ Beavis! Here's our stop."

Daria examined the house with narrowed eyes. "It looks different from how I remember."

"We painted it back in junior year."

"You....painted?" Daria craned her head to get a better look. "It looks, well, decent."

"Keep the compliments coming." Butt-Head turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door. "Come with me while I do a security patrol. Beavis, I've got salsa in the fridge and nachos in the cabinet. You know what to do."

"Yeah! Nachos!" Beavis vanished into the kitchen, chattering to himself. Butt-Head snickered and headed up the stairs.

Daria's Doc Martens clumped on the steps behind him. "So," she said. "Is Highland still a small town in an advanced stage of decline, or has it been gentrified by now?"

Butt-Head threw her a puzzled look over his shoulder. "Gentri - gentle- what'd you say?"

"Gentrified. Invaded by yuppies. Turned into a hip new neighborhood for young professionals. Are there plans to turn the Burger World into a sushi fusion restaurant? Is your rent creeping upwards?"

"Oh. Now that you mention it, that asshole did jack it up by twenty dollars two months ago." Butt-Head scratched at his scabbing elbow. "You think we're gonna get gentriculated, or whatever?"

"At this point, I'd say it's a case of when, not if. Houston is basically one big Whole Foods by now. At some point, property values are going to get so high that even the yuppies will be priced out. You probably have about five years before they get here."

"Aw, great. Just what I need," Butt-Head huffed. He kicked open the door to his room and gestured at it. "Here's where the magic happens."

Daria peered inside. "So you finally scored. Hallelujah. Proof if proof need be that everybody is someone's weird fetish."

"Uh....no," Butt-Head admitted. "I still haven't, you know, done it. Neither has Beavis."

"Oh." Daria bit her lip. "Well, um, your room looks clean. I like your cactus."

"I bet you expected, like, missing floorboards and dirt everywhere."

"Let's just say that I am being continually surprised." 

Butt-Head shut the door and moved down the short landing to the master bedroom. He turned the key in the lock and pushed it open.

Daria wrinkled her nose. "Ugh, musty. Whose is this? It looks like it hasn't been used in years."

"It was my mom's, back when she lived here," Butt-Head explained. He stepped inside and had a look around. "It was a real mess after she left. Beavis 'n me finally cleaned it out last month. Took us the whole weekend." He peered inside the wardrobe to check for moths. "We had to throw out almost all her stuff, 'cause it was all broken and pieces missing and all." He made a face at a picture of himself as a baby on the windowsill. "I hope she doesn't get mad when she gets back."

"Where'd she go?" Daria asked. She sounded way too interested all of a sudden. Butt-Head became uneasy; he opened the dresser and rifled through it, keeping his back to her. 

"I dunno. Nevada, maybe, she has family there. Look, Daria, I just wanted to make sure the house wasn't broken into. Let's get out of here." He brushed past her harder than he'd meant to and strode out onto the landing. She followed, not saying anything. When they were both out, he let her go ahead and locked the door, slipping the key into his pocket. 

* * *

The three of them spent the next four hours watching MTV, eating snacks, and catching up on one another's lives. In between music videos, Daria told them about Lawndale. She showed them the pictures in her wallet: her in a photobooth with a dark-haired girl, both staring critically at the camera. 

"My best friend, Jane."

"Uh, 'best friend'? You sure?"

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, nothing. 'Cept, Cassandra once told me that girls with fancy earrings are carpet-munchers."

Daria snatched away the picture, but she couldn't keep herself from smiling. "If you must know, we nearly fell out over the same boy last year."

"Oh? Got a picture of him, too?"

"Yeah! Or, or, or, a picture of you! In sexy lingerie!" Beavis had eaten a pack of candies he had shoplifted the night before and was going slightly off the rails.

Shaking her head, but still smiling, Daria took out another photo, one of a mildly good-looking boy with hair like a lesser Beatle. "His name's Tom. And no, Beavis - even if I did own lingerie, and I assure you I do not, I would never take a picture of myself wearing it."

"Looks like you're still a career virgin - and with a guy like that, I don't blame you." Butt-Head grabbed the picture and held it out of her reach. "I mean, Tom? Is that the name of a man who fucks?"

"What about Tom Cruise?" Daria countered, her tone not changing from its usual semi-amused drawl even as she threw herself at him and toppled them both off the couch.

"Point taken," Butt-Head wheezed. Daria squeezed his wrist until his hand went floppy, then took her photo back and sat back on the couch with a shout of triumphant laughter. Butt-Head sat up on his hunkers, grinning in spite of himself.

Just then, the phone rang. Beavis leapt to his feet, announced "I'll get it!" too loudly, and jittered into the kitchen. A moment later, he said, "Hi Mama! Yeah, it's me....No, I haven't had sugar....Damn it, Mama, I'm not lying!"

"He's lying his ass off, Mrs. Beavis!" Butt-Head yelled. Daria snickered.

Beavis stuck his hand around the door and flipped him off. "No, Mama, he's just goofing around, y'know?....Uh-huh. Right. Okay. No, it's cool, I'll see him in school tomorrow. Yeah, I know. See you soon." He hung up and reappeared, saying, "Hey, Butt-Head, my folks are going out to dinner for their anniversary and I gotta go home and babysit my stepbrother."

"What?" Butt-Head stood up. "Can't you get out of it? Daria's here. The evening's still young."

"Aw, c'mon, Butt-Head, it's their anniversary. Besides, Cody's only eight. It's not fair to leave him by himself. I'll meet you at school. Nice seeing you, Daria!" Beavis opened the door, waved at them, and slammed it shut. They listened to him bopping down the road.

"Wow," Daria said. "I remember a time when he wouldn't have dared disobey you."

"Times change," Butt-Head replied wearily. He got to his feet and sat back on his side of the couch. "At least, that's what everyone's been telling me."

Daria turned down the TV volume. "Should I go? I don't want to outstay my welcome."

"You don't have to. I mean, I'm not gonna throw you out. I'm just kind of pissed off."

"About what?"

"Oh, you know." Butt-Head took one of the nachos, swiped it through the salsa, and bit into it with a sullen crunch. "All I hear at school is, what are you doing once you graduate? What do you mean, you're working at Burger World? Why don't you go to college?" He stuck his tongue out. "It was so much easier back when we were both stupid. Nobody bothered us. But then, junior year, Van Driessen was like -" He affected the teacher's slow, high-pitched voice. "If you guys don't apply yourselves, I'm afraid that you'll never be able to graduate. That means that you'll never get to finish high school." He rolled his eyes. "So we busted ass all last year and this year to get our grades up. I think we overdid it."

Daria pursed her lips. "You had to grow up some time. You can't be fourteen all your life, Butt-Head."

"Yeah. Whatever." Butt-Head turned the volume back up and stewed in silence.

After a few minutes had passed, Daria cleared her throat and muttered, "Actually, I had a confession to make."

Butt-Head grunted. 

"I lied to Kimberley earlier. I don't have any aunts living in Highland. I came back just to find you guys."

Butt-Head stared at her. "Woah. You came all the way out from Lawndale to see us?"

She nodded.

"Why?"

She shook her head. "It'll sound stupid."

"Have you met Beavis? I'm used to stupid."

"Alright. It was because I was afraid I'd imagined you. As the years went by, and I met halfway-normal people, I just stopped believing that you guys could exist. You were just so perfectly idiotic. I thought, nothing that knows that little about the world can survive." She appraised him with her solemn green eyes. "Are you mad?"

Butt-Head raised his eyebrows. "Mad? Uh, no. But you're right." He dug the toe of his shoe into the carpet. "I guess we had to grow up. We were just kids back then. Beavis thinks it was the best time we ever had. He told me the other night that our lives have been going to hell ever since."

"But you guys kept getting beaten up." Daria's voice was so soft, it could have come from inside his own head.

"I know! Right? That's what I said, but he said that didn't matter. According to him, nothing is fun anymore." He sighed angrily and kicked his heels against the couch. "I dunno. He's been acting weird lately."

Daria reached over and pressed the power button on the remote. Bon Jovi vanished into the dark. Butt-Head looked at her, waiting.

She said, "You should have told him a long time ago."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You do."

He got up, went into the bathroom, locked the door, and leaned his forehead against the cold glass of the mirror for a couple of minutes. When he came back, she was still there, head turning towards him as he sat back down.

"If you know, everyone knows," he muttered. 

She shook her head. "I only realised earlier, when he left. I saw your face. I've made that kind of face myself." She scooted closer. "How long?"

"Since I first knew he existed, it feels like." He brushed his hair out of his eyes. "Definitely since freshman year."

"That's a long time to know and not tell."

"Well, what would you have done, if you were me? Would you have told him? Oh, hey, Beavis, I finally figured out why I got so angry when you ditched me at the mall to follow that chick around." He snorted. "I couldn't even admit it to myself. He made me....happy. I couldn't deal with happy. So much of our lives sucked. If I had let myself feel the good stuff, I would've had to feel the bad stuff, too."

"Like what?"

"Ugh, I'm seriously this close to slapping you. Like being sick all the time, and my head hurting, and the electricity being cut off, and not having enough to eat. And Beavis getting molested. Do you know how it felt, when he told me that? Do you know what I wanted to do? I wanted to pour the hugest canister of gasoline on this whole fucking town and drop a match on it." He flopped back onto the cushions. "Anyway, you think he'd go for that? Have you heard him talk? He wants chicks. Hell, I want chicks. I'm not losing my best friend because you think I should be open with my feelings, or whatever." 

"You're right." She put her hand on his. He looked at it, thinking, _If this had happened when we were fourteen, I would never have shut up about it._ "That was insensitive of me. I only felt bad for you. You looked so lost when he left." She sat back. "If it helps, I know how you feel."

He bared his teeth. "No you don't. You got the guy. It's alright for you to be with him that way."

Daria looked at him, her eyes miserable.

"What? Oh, Jesus." He sat up. "It's that Jane chick, isn't it?"

She nodded.

"Aw, Daria, I'm sorry." He scratched the back of his neck. "Does she know?"

Daria sighed. "I don't think so. In case it's slipped you, I don't show a lot on the surface."

Butt-Head picked at his fingernails. They were quiet for a long while, watching the sunlight slowly recede from the room.

Eventually, Daria said, "It might work out."

Butt-Head put his head in his hands. "It won't."

"I meant for me," she retorted. "We have one of those romantic friendships. You guys, I'm not so sure about."

Butt-Head eyed her, feeling suddenly defensive. "Well, uh, there have been one or two things."

Daria cracked a smile. "One or two? I seem to recall seeing you boys mud-wrestling in bikinis."

Butt-Head reddened. "He's said stuff. Looking back, I sometimes think he might have been giving me hints. But he's, you know, Beavis. Not even he knows whether he means what says."

"If you talked to him -"

"Look, I get what you're saying. About once a week I dream that I tell him, and it turns out he likes me too, and we get a big fat happy ever after. But if he doesn't, what happens? It gets awkward. He stays at home helping out his mom and stops answering my calls." He held out his hands, palms up, like he was asking for alms. "He's all I have. I want to keep him forever, even if it hurts. Everything in my life has gone to shit," and he could feel a big lump building in his throat, pushing against his eyeballs, "but he's still here. You know? If I can rely on him, I can handle everything else. I can stand spending the rest of my life in this town if I spend it with him as my friend."

* * *

Daria got a call from her mother at eight o'clock. Butt-Head walked her back through town to her car.

She got into the driver's seat, then reached out and tugged at his shirt. "If you're ever in trouble, call me. Promise."

"I will."

"And don't listen to everybody pressuring you to do something with your life. You don't have to decide right away. Wait a year. Wait ten."

"Thanks. You're the only person who's said that." He leaned down. "Don't waste your life with that Tom guy."

Daria's face tightened. "It's not that simple."

"Believe me, everything's simple when you're stupid. Be stupid for once." He kissed her on her temple, feeling her sweat-sticky hair against his lips. "Don't be a stranger for another four years."

"I would never." She patted him on the shoulder, then put her key in the ignition. Butt-Head stepped back as she reversed out of the parking space, and stood watching her taillights until he couldn't see them anymore.

He walked back to his house with his back to the sunset, watching his shadow go before him. As he walked down his street, he heard a noise. It sounded like someone kicking a door. He broke into a jog.

Todd Ianuzzi was slamming himself up against his front door, trying to force it open. 

"Hey," Butt-Head called, then, louder, "Hey! You can't do that!"

Todd looked up, saw him, went back to what he was doing.

"Stop it! Jesus Christ, do you know how much it costs to fix doors?" Butt-Head ran up the path and grabbed his shirt, trying to pull him back. "Quit it!"

"Get away from me, twerp," Todd growled. He shoved Butt-Head to the ground with only the slightest effort and stood over him. "Give me the key to your house, I need a place to crash."

"What? No way! Get the hell out of here!"

Todd frowned and stooped down. He yanked Butt-Head to his feet by the collar of his shirt and went through his pockets. He found the key, pushed Butt-Head out of the way, and opened the door.

Butt-Head followed him in, protesting: "Look, dude, you can't be here. If the cops come looking for you...."

"Cool down, girl, I'm not in trouble this time," Todd told him. He went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. "This blows! There's nothing but vegetables and shit in here!"

"Yeah, well, my tastes have changed since the last time you visited." Accepting that, for better or for worse, he had company, Butt-Head sat on the arm of the couch and watched Todd go through the cabinets. "There's some kettle chips in the cupboard on your left. Hey, Todd, you know when you graduated?"

"Didn't graduate. Dropped out."

"Oh. Wait. But you're not in high school anymore."

"Yeah, dimwit, that's what dropping out means. I just stopped going."

Butt-Head digested this information and decided to kick Mr. Van Driessen's ass into space when he next saw him. "Anyway, what did you do?"

"I spent the summer hanging out with Earl, then I started work at Mechanical Mike's." Todd ripped open the kettle chips and began eating them by the handful. Crumbs went everywhere. "And I lived happily ever fuckin' after. Why do you ask?"

Butt-Head opened his mouth to answer, but was distracted by the sound of the door opening. 

"Butt-Head, is Daria still here?" It was Beavis. "Because I wanted to ask her - oh, come on! Not again!"

He strode past Butt-Head into the kitchen and wrested the bag of chips out of Todd's hands. "Get out of here, asswipe, this isn't your house!"

Todd laughed at him. Beavis looked at Butt-Head and jerked his head. Butt-Head slid off the arm of the couch and ran at Todd. He grabbed his shirt, while Beavis got a fistful of hair. They dragged him back through the house, grunting, and pushed him through the door. Todd fell to the ground with a curse; he looked up at them, his eyes baleful behind his sunglasses.

"You guys used to be cool," he complained, rubbing his head. "Ow."

"Yeah, well, you should've treated us better." Beavis slammed the door shut and extended a hand to Butt-Head without looking at him. "Key. Now." Butt-Head gave him the key, and he locked the door. Peering through the frosted glass, he said, "We should get a padlock."

" _We?_ It's not your house."

"Okay, _you_ should get a padlock. C'mon, Butt-Head, you know better than to let him in."

"You think I had a choice?" Butt-Head reached into the chip back and snaffled one. "He steamrolled over me."

Beavis took a chip for himself. "You should be more assertive."

"Oh, that's rich."

"Explain how."

"Dude, you let me walk all over you when we were kids."

"That was different. We were friends. It's what friends do."

Butt-Head suddenly felt sour. He took the bag off of Beavis and brought it back into the kitchen, where he returned it to the cupboard. Beavis followed him.

"Hey, Butt-Head, what's up? Is this about Todd? I'm sorry if I was -"

"It's not about Todd." Butt-Head slammed the cupboard door shut, regretting it immediately because it made him seem like a kid throwing a tantrum. "Why'd you have to ditch me and Daria? It was so awkward."

Beavis knitted his blond eyebrows together. "What? You wanted me to leave Cody by himself?"

"No! I wanted...." Butt-Head stopped, tried again. "You've been taking every opportunity to get away from me since your mom got married. Do you not wanna be friends anymore?"

Beavis put his hands in his pockets and leaned up against the wall. He looked more sad than angry. "C'mon, dude, I hang out with you every day."

"Not as much as you used to," Butt-Head snapped. "Didn't you say the other night that the best days of our lives were when we were kids? Maybe it's because we were together, like, all the time."

"We're not fourteen anymore. I couldn't keep up the whole conjoined-twin thing when my mom came back to town. She needed me."

" _I_ needed you!" Butt-Head shouted. "You think my mom came back, asshole? I had nobody! I had to sleep in an empty house every night while you were off playing happy families with that slut!"

That did it. Beavis rushed him and shoved him back into the kitchen units. Butt-Head's spine let him know how sharp the edge of the counter was. He yelped in pain and propelled himself at Beavis, knocking him over. The fight began in earnest.

Beavis won, just as he always did, because Butt-Head let him win. He knew he'd gone too far.

Straddling his stomach, wiping blood from his nose, Beavis asked him - more in puzzlement than anything else - "What the fuck's gotten into you?"

"I dunno," Butt-Head replied, miserable. "Why do you never hug me?"

"What?"

"The only time we touch each other is when we fight. Like now. Doesn't that seem wrong to you?"

Beavis looked at him oddly for a long moment, then asked, "Did you get drunk with Daria or something?"

"No!"

"You're kicking my ass one minute and demanding hugs the next. I don't know. I'm too tired for this shit, Benny." Beavis got to his feet and went for the door without looking back. "See you at school, I guess." The door shut, and Butt-Head was alone in the mess he'd created.

* * *

It was a quarter to eleven on graduation day, and the faculty had a problem.

"What do you mean, he's not out there?!" McVicker yelled.

"I've scanned the perimeter, sir!" Coach Buzzcut barked. "Beavis is in position, but Butt-Head appears to be AWOL!"

"Ohhhhhh, and I was looking forward to getting that little prick out of here!"

Buzzcut raised an eyebrow. "It was my understanding, sir, that if a student does not attend the ceremony, they are still graduated from the school! We can mail him his diploma, can we not!"

"You don't understand, Bradley. If I don't hand him the sheepskin on that stage and see him walk out of my life for myself, he'll come back. I know he will!"

"Gentlemen, please," Mr. Van Driessen interrupted, joining them at the side of the stage. "What's happened?"

"Butt-Head is not among the student body assembled on the football field!" Buzzcut told him. "It is Principal McVicker's belief that, if the boy does not attend today's ceremony, he will return to the school next September and continue his reign of terror!" He lowered his voice. "Dave, the kid likes you. Whether that's a blessing or a curse, I don't know. Can you find him?"

"I can try." Van Driessen took off, thinking of where to look first.

He went to the parking lot, working off a hunch. Sure enough, wading through the snarl of cars, he saw a familiar grey-red form sitting on the kerb in the far corner. He made his way over.

"Hey, Butt-Head."

"Hi, Mr. Van D."

"May I join you?"

Butt-Head shrugged. "If you like."

Van Driessen hunkered down beside him. "Where are your robes?"

"Don't have any."

"Well, let's go get you some." No response. "Butt-Head, tell me what's wrong. Beavis is by himself out there - "

"Let him be by himself," Butt-Head growled. He picked up a piece of gravel and threw it at a nearby Honda. "Hey, Mr. Van D, Todd came by last night. Told me something real interesting." He fixed his teacher with a rattlesnake glare. "We didn't have to graduate. We could've dropped out and saved ourselves, like, a shitload of trouble. Why'd you make us do all that work?"

Van Driessen considered this for a minute. Around them, people flowed towards the football field, resplendent in their gold-trimmed robes. Those who recognised Butt-Head didn't seem surprised to see him there, in his usual ratty clothes.

"Beavis is gonna go away soon," Butt-Head muttered, drawing his knees to himself. "My life already sucks, but after today, it's gonna suck more. We had a fight. It felt different from normal. Like we were saying goodbye, and knocking the crap out of each other was the only way we knew how." He glanced up and sneered. "But what do you know about stuff like that?"

Van Driessen looked at all the graduands going past them, seeing the faces he'd first known when they were childish and round with baby fat. "Butt-Head, I lose people I love every year."

Butt-Head's eyebrow twitched.

"The fifth of May comes, and another batch of kids I've taught since they were fourteen get their diplomas and move out into the world. And that's it. Most of them never come back." The teacher took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "The summer before you and Beavis were due to come into ninth grade, teachers at the middle school kept calling me to warn me. I was prepared for the worst, but you two showed up and I realised that everybody had been wrong. You were so small. You were sick. You would fall asleep in class because you were hungry."

Butt-Head kicked at the dirt. "We were shits to you."

"So? You guys weren't nearly the worst I've ever had. And even if you had been, I still would have loved you, the way I do everyone in my classes. My pupils are my children, Butt-Head. Every year, my ambition is to graduate all of them. You boys were no different. Do you understand now? You and Beavis are just as special and worthy of success as the others."

Butt-Head looked over at the football field. The ceremony would begin in five minutes. "I'm sorry about upsetting you when you asked what we were doing after high school."

"You know what? If you stay in Highland and flip burgers for the rest of your life, that's alright. There are so many paths in life. We don't always get to choose which ones we travel. But, if you love people - if you make the effort to be kind - then you will dignify everything you do, no matter how humble it is."

Picking at his nails, the boy mumbled, "I don't want Beavis to die in a workplace accident."

"I know you don't, because you care about him. And he cares about you." Van Driessen patted him on the shoulder. "And I feel confident about letting you both out into the world because I know you'll protect each other." He gestured towards the football field. "I'm not suggesting that you make up with him right this minute, but you should at least walk the stage with him and the rest of your classmates, mmkay?"

Butt-Head looked up. "I need, like, robes or something."

Van Driessen stood up. "Follow me."

* * *

They ended up being a couple of sizes too big, and Butt-Head had to pick them up like Cinderella as he squeezed past his classmates to an empty seat beside Stewart.

Stewart glanced at him, then did a double take. "Butt-Head? Why aren't you with Beavis?"

"Long story. I'll tell you after." 

Stewart peered down the row. "Well, he's over there beside Dean if you wanna swap seats."

Butt-Head looked to his right. There, three seats down, was Beavis. Their eyes met; Beavis turned his head away.

Stewart saw. "Aw, man, did you guys have a fight?"

Butt-Head wrinkled his nose. "None of your business, Stevenson."

Stewart smiled and sat back in his chair. "I get it. Anyway, will either of you be at the party at the skate park tonight?"

"I told you already, we've both got work."

A hush fell over the crowd; the teachers had taken their places onstage. Principal McVicker approached the microphone with the air of a hunted animal and tapped it. "Uhhhh, is this thing on?" A metallic screech rang out from the speakers; everyone groaned and winced. "Okay, it's on. Thank you." McVicker scowled at his audience. "Another academic year has come and gone. Now, on this beautiful May morning, we must once again say goodbye to our students as they move onto the world of work, further education, and adult life." He paused and tried to subtly wipe the sweat from his upper lip. "Look, I know we'd all like to get this over with. I'll pass you over to Cassandra, ummmm...." He looked helplessly at Coach Buzzcut, who shrugged. "Uhhhhh, Cassandra. Ladies and gentlemen, your valedictorian."

Cassandra crept onstage as applause rose from the crowd. Butt-Head whistled; further down, he heard Beavis yell, "Kill it, Cass!" He grinned despite himself.

She fiddled with the microphone for a moment, bringing it down so that she could speak into it. She opened her mouth, squeaked, coughed, took a deep breath, and tried again: "Hi, everyone." Chuckles rippled over the gathering. "I'm sorry, I had cue cards, but I think I left them in my car. I guess I'll have to manage without them." She pushed her glasses up her nose and beamed at them. "Four years ago, we entered this school as shy, uncertain teenagers, not knowing whether we would be able to succeed in the challenging world of high school. We would look at the upperclassmen and think - I'll never be that confident and smart. I'll never be as sure of my place in the world. I'll never be that tall." She gestured to herself. "I, for one, was right about that last one." More laughter. Encouraged, she stepped closer to the microphone, gripping it with both hands. "But here we are, the envy of this year's freshmen. We have been through tough times together. Some of our friends have departed for pastures new, and we hold them in our hearts today. Many of us know where we're going once today is over - come September, we'll be packing our bags and heading off to college, starting out on a brand new adventure." Her smile fell from her face, and she looked out at the crowd; Butt-Head jolted when her eyes met his.

"But many more don't know what they're going to do. They feel what we will all feel, sooner or later - doubt and fear at the awesome blank void of the future. When faced by that blankness, please remember - you have made it through four years of high school. When things were tough - when you thought you couldn't go on - you persevered. I have no doubt that we all will persevere, when we have no plan and the road ahead is dark and unclear." She looked over her shoulder at the faculty. "I would like to take the time to thank our teachers, who shepherded us through tumultuous adolescence, who had the patience to wait for our ill-formed thinking to mature, for our work to become worthwhile." The teachers smiled at her, except Buzzcut, who gave her a tight, patrician nod. "Without you, we wouldn't be here today. I would also like to extend our collective gratitude to our parents, who, in the words of Fred Rogers, loved us into being." Pleased cooing resounded from the back rows, where the families were sitting.

"I would like to close with a memory. When my father died the August before I was due to start freshman year, I thought my world would end. I believed that high school would be hell. But, from the very first day of classes, my peers took my under their wings. They listened to me, distracted me with their jokes, and made me laugh when I would rather curl up into a ball and cry. With their help, I came to realise that that death does not have the power to end everything. My father is still with me - " her voice wobbled, but she kept going - "and I saw his kindness and heart in my classmates every day I spent here." She brushed a strand of hair back behind her hair. "Class of '96, you will never know how grateful I am to have been your friend."

The applause sounded like the wingclaps of a great flock of birds. Cassandra grinned in embarrassment and hurried off the stage. On her way back to her seat, she stopped at Butt-Head's row and leaned across to whisper, "I hope you didn't mind the shout-out!"

"Uh, no," Butt-Head replied, still a little lost for words.

"You did really great, Cass!" Stewart said. Down along the row, Beavis gave her a thumbs up. She returned it and moved on.

Back onstage, McVicker was readjusting the microphone. Suddenly, freed from the catch, it shot up just in time to catch his muttered "fucking piece of junk!" A roar of laughter surged at him, and he visibly purpled. "Please excuse me. Now, I am about to hand out the diplomas. Please line up beside the stage in an orderly fashion. When called, walk across the stage, receive your diploma, and walk down the steps at the opposite side. There will be no grandstanding, showboating, play-acting, or celebrating of any kind! Coach Buzzcut is on hand to enforce this!" 

Once all the graduands were arranged in a vaguely straight line, McVicker began reading out the names. Butt-Head listened closely, knowing that Beavis was near the top of the list.

"....Beavis, William!"

Murmurs broke out among the students; very few people knew what their real names were. Beavis made his way up to the stage and walked across. Butt-Head could tell from his stiff-kneed stride that he was delirious with excitement. 

McVicker extended the diploma towards him like a nervy baton runner. Beavis grabbed it, wrenched the microphone from his grasp, and screamed, "I GRADUATED, MAMA! EVERYBODY SAID I'D NEVER GET HERE BUT I DID!"

McVicker ripped the mike out of his hands and roared for Buzzcut, who stepped up, took Beavis by the shoulders, and gently propelled him offstage. Butt-Head's heart jangled his ribs. A swell of age-old affection for Beavis flooded through him. _God,_ he thought. _I am so proud of that fucking madman._

The ceremony continued without any further outbursts, although, judging from the current of conversation among those present, it had already been inducted into the Highland Hall of Permanent Notoriety, surely to be imitated countless times until the death of the sun. Finally, they got to H on the list. Butt-Head watched Amy Habermann shake McVicker's hand and readied himself.

McVicker adjusted his glasses and glanced at the list. "Okay, Don Huckerback?"

Butt-Head's stomach jerked. He threw a wild-eyed stare at Van Driessen on the stage, who started and jogged over to the principal. He whispered something to him. McVicker's eyes bugged out like he was being strangled. He grabbed the mike.

"Uhhhh, I'm sorry, I've made a mistake! No, Don, stay where you are. Could Head, Benjamin, please make his way to the stage?"

Butt-Head could feel the gaze of four hundred inquisitive classmates on his back as he made his way up the line. His shoes clanged on the steel steps. When people saw whose name had been called, they began whispering furiously.

McVicker awaited him, gleaming with sweat. When Butt-Head reached him, instead of simply handing him the diploma, the principal leaned towards him and muttered, "I'm really sorry, Ben. I've ruined the day for you."

"Uh, the day was ruined before I got here, sir." Butt-Head dredged up a smile. "Don't worry. It's not even the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to me on this football field."

"I really do want you out of here," McVicker told him. He held out the diploma.

In that moment, Butt-Head saw himself from his principal's point of view. He saw a bizarre, oddly-shaped kid, who only came to school to cause havoc, who never said apologised, never faced consequences. He saw how expensive every prank had been to fix. He tasted the dread that had been a constant presence at the back of McVicker's throat for four years.

He took the scroll and clasped McVicker's hand.

"I'm sorry for all the stuff we did."

McVicker blinked, opened and shut his mouth, then gave his hand a squeeze and a brief shake. "Congratulations. Looking back, it doesn't seem to be as bad as I remembered. Now, get the hell out of my life."

Butt-Head trotted past him and the faculty - Van Driessen appeared to be crying, while Buzzcut quirked an eyebrow in his direction - and descended the other set of steps.

Beavis was waiting for him.

"Uh, hi, Butt-Head."

"Oh. Hey."

"Good to see you, um, made it on time."

"Yeah."

"I mean, I called at your house on the way here earlier, but you weren't there, so I thought -"

"My Uncle Mike dropped me off. He couldn't stay, though. Cousin Dale had traffic court."

"Oh."

"Uh-huh."

"So. We graduated."

"We sure did."

"We made it!"

"Totally!"

"I felt bad when McVicker, you know -"

"Don't worry. I have, like, one of those names that's easy to miss if you're not looking for it."

"I guess. But it was still a sucky thing to do."

"I'm not gonna let it spoil my day."

"Oh, yeah, of course not. That reminds me - you know we have work later?"

"Yeah, I know."

"My uniform is kinda still at your house. Could I -"

"I'll bring it with me this evening."

"Would you?"

"Yeah, dude. No problem."

"Thanks, Butt-Head."

They stood there, not knowing what else to say. Beavis cleared his throat.

"Last night -"

"I'm sorry about what I said about your mom."

"What? No, it's alright. I'm sorry about beating you up."

"I beat _you_ up, dumbass."

"No way, Butt-Head! I kicked your ass so hard you asked me to hug you better."

"I threw that fight because I wanted to make you feel better after what I said about your slutty, slutty mom."

"God damn it, Butt-Head, I'm trying to be nice." Beavis slung an arm around his shoulders. "You're lucky my stepdad's over in the back row. I'll see you at Burger World, alright? Don't forget my uniform. If I have to wear the spare one that's been in the closet since Reagan, I will fry you and feed you to the health inspector." His mother called him; Beavis detached from Butt-Head and ran off.

For the first time that day, Butt-Head felt like he'd achieved something. He unrolled his scroll and looked at it. His full name was written there, in elegant Gothic script. 

He tied it back up and tucked it gently into his sleeve.

* * *

Later on, alone in his house, the robes returned to the school storage room, Butt-Head found it hard to believe it had happened.

But he had the scroll to prove it, and he'd bought a frame for it at the Dollar General. He was in the process of hanging it when someone knocked on the door. 

"Wait a minute," he called, and adjusted the frame.

The knocks came again, louder.

"Jesus, alright, I'm coming." He got off the stepladder and went to the door with some trepidation. He opened the letterbox and looked out.

Stewart's face appeared, grinning. "Hey, Butt-Head!"

"Oh, it's you. I thought it was the cops or something." Butt-Head slid open the latch and turned the handle. "Next time, don't -"

Stewart bundled through the gap and pinned him to the wall, driving all the air out of his lungs. He wheezed. Cassandra ran past them to the phone and dialled a number. After a moment of waiting - with Butt-Head kicking out and threatening to kill them - she got through.

"Uh, yeah, is this Burger World? Can I speak to the manager? You are the manager? Great! Beavis and Butt-Head won't be coming in tonight."

"Hey! She's messing with you, I'm -" Stewart covered his mouth with his hand. 

"Why?" Cassandra continued. "Um, I dunno, maybe they're dead. Or maybe they graduated today! Maybe they deserve one night off to celebrate with their friends!" The manager's tinny voice could be heard yelling on the other end. "Well, I don't care! Find someone else to do it! This is their special day, and I won't let you take it away from them!" She slammed the phone back into its cradle and said, "Okay, Stewart, you can let him go now."

Butt-Head pushed Stewart away from himself and strode over to Cassandra. "Why did you do that? You made me lose my job!"

"You won't lose your job. Look, call him back and tell him yourself that you want tonight off."

"I don't want tonight off! I need this shift to make the rent!"

Butt-Head...." Cassandra put her hands on his shoulders and put her face close to his. Here eyes were moss-coloured and imploring. "You worked so hard to get out of high school. Can't you allow yourself one night to enjoy it?"

Butt-Head looked past her to Stewart. "I suppose Beavis is in on this."

"Dean is currently sitting on him in the car."

"God. Alright." Butt-Head broke away from Cassandra and went to the phone. "Give me a minute to square this properly."

* * *

Ten o'clock at the skate park and the party was still going strong. Stewart was already half-drunk, doing one-handed pushups with his shirt off. Dean had disappeared for a while, returned with his little sister's scooter, and was performing dodgy no-handers in the pit. Cassandra was charming some girl with a nose piercing. Butt-Head sat on the rim with his second beer, feeling mellow.

Someone sat beside him. It was Beavis. "Hey, howzit goin'?"

"Pretty good." Butt-Head craned his head around to look at him. "You working on a buzz?"

Beavis squinted as he considered the question. "I had a couple beers."

"Me too." Butt-Head kicked his heels against the side of the pit. "What would we have done, as freshmen, to be invited to a party like this and drink real alcohol?"

"I know!" Beavis grinned, his eyes pinwheeling. "We would've killed to be here! And here we are! Nobody had to die!"

"This is way better than flipping burgers," Butt-Head agreed. "Of course, come next month, I might not think so, but you know what? We graduated. Fuck work."

"Work sucks!" Beavis echoed, and cackled. "Hey, remember when we were kids, and we had the late shift, and we played burger tag? And then we started throwing stuff at the ceiling fan, and it went everywhere? And I put nightcrawlers in the deep-fat fryer? That was so cool."

"Yeah, and I remember our pay getting docked for months after, too." Butt-Head took a sip of his beer. "I know you think back then was the best time of our lives, but it wasn't all great. Bad stuff happened. Like...."

He trailed off. 

Beavis picked a small stone off the ground and aimed it into the pit. It ricocheted off the opposite wall. "A lot of things that happened to us back then sucked," he admitted. "Like all those times Todd beat us up. And that shit with your mom. And, uh, you know, that other thing, y'know....But you know why we had so much fun back then?"

Butt-Head lay back and closed his eyes. "Go on."

"It was because we spent every day together." He cranked open one lid and saw Beavis looking out into the night as he talked. "You were the one thing I could count on. If I hadn't had you, I wouldn't be here."

"Now you're just being a wuss," Butt-Head grunted. 

"I'm serious!" Beavis protested. "If you hadn't been there all those times I went Cornholio, I could've died!"

"Yeah, well, you came pretty close to dying anyway. Let me remind you of that time I got you to sit on the photocopier and the glass shattered. Or the time I drilled Stewart's action figure to your hand. Or the time -"

"Shut up, Butt-Head. Take a compliment for once." Beavis punked him on the shoulder. "You helped me out a lot back then. That's what made it fun. We needed to be together, y'know? Like, God ran out of guardian angels, so he took the dudes who didn't have any and said, Okay, you boys mind each other, 'cos I really messed up when I was ordering angels."

Butt-Head smirked. "God's a dumbass. If he worked at Burger World? And the manager made him order fries from the supplier? He'd get way too few and all the stoners would be mad." 

They watched the party for a while. Dean attempted a frontflip and nearly broke his neck. Stewart bumbled around offering to teach people the secret of getting out of a chokehold. They had an excellent view of Cassandra getting lucky in the far corner with the chick she'd been flirting with all night.

"Look at that," Beavis sighed. "Looks like Cass is gonna score before us."

"Which makes us the last virgins standing." Butt-Head looked on fondly. "She deserves to smash box."

"Do you ever think," Beavis asked him, "that maybe we're just not meant to score? Like, perhaps God's telling us to become monks or something."

"Maybe....but I don't think he's telling us to become monks."

"Oh?" A new note of interest entered Beavis's voice. "Okay, Prophet Butt-Head, tell me what God wants. Interpret God's will."

"Okay." Butt-Head sat up and threw back the rest of his beer. "God's saying we shouldn't score with chicks because, uhh...."

"Go on."

"Because we should be together," Butt-Head gabbled. "Because it's like you said - we're made for each other, nobody else. That's why we never got lucky."

He waited, heart hammering so hard he though he could see it through his shirt, sure that he had ruined everything. Beavis turned his head slightly, staring at the sky, running his tongue over his top lip.

"So, we're, like....soulmates," he said at last.

"Yeah," Butt-Head replied, picking at his nails. 

In the ensuing silence, civilizations rose and fell, new species evolved, planets were born and died, and Butt-Head called himself a _stupid fucking idiot, how could you even think he'd go for it, worst idea you've ever had, now he's gonna go away and never come back -_

"Um, so we're not dating yet?" Beavis said, sounding confused. 

Butt-Head stared at him. "What."

"Are you confessing to me, or something? Didn't you already do that in, like, 1993?"

"1993? Beavis, what the hell are you talking about?"

"You don't remember? It was sophomore year, and I said, are we gonna get married when we're older, and you said, sure, why not." Beavis scratched behind his ear. "Did I misinterpret that? Because I sort of took it as us getting together. Like, dating and stuff." Seeing Butt-Head's face, he added, "I did think it was funny how you never asked to hold hands and stuff, but I figured you wanted to take your time."

"Beavis, you - I can't - you thought we've been, I don't know, in a relationship? Since ninth fucking grade?"

"Yeah," Beavis replied. "Oh, hold on a second, I never got any of those pig-in-a-blanket thingies."

He skidded down the side, ran to the snack table, grabbed the last two cocktail sausages, and ran back. He clambered one-handed up the side and gave one to Butt-Head. "So, yeah, I always thought we were, I dunno, boyfriends?"

It took Butt-Head a couple of tries to get the words out: "....But we went after chicks together."

Beavis shrugged. "That was a hobby. We both knew we'd never get any. Girls don't go for the skull-filled-with-fluid look, no offense."

"And you do?" Butt-Head pronged the sausage into his mouth and chewed it skeptically. 

Beavis gave him a crooked grin. "You grew into it."

Butt-Head was so flustered, he swatted him. "Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Flirting with me, buttwipe! It's weird!"

"That's just 'cos you're not used to it. Oh, hey, I just remembered something. You never got any at the spin-the-bottle game at the lake last August!"

"I guess not. Why?"

"Well, it's not fair that I got some and you didn't." Beavis's face was suddenly close enough for Butt-Head to see faint freckles. "Close your eyes a second."

Butt-Head squeezed his eyes shut involuntarily. A moment later, something smooshed against his mouth. The sensation vanished. He opened his eyes. Beavis looked at him and said, "Well, how was that?"

"That was a kiss?"

"No, I beat you two stone lighter. Of course it was a kiss, dillweed. What did you think?"

"Uhhhh...." Butt-Head tried to focus on what Beavis was saying, but his organs felt like they had all turned into hundreds of butterflies and he was having a hard time stopping himself from giggling. "Does this mean you're not gonna stop hanging out with me?"

"Uh, yeah, Butt-Head, it could mean that. Jesus, let me spell it out: I really, really like you. Like, _like_ like. Do you understand now?"

"I guess," Butt-Head replied dazedly. "Beavis, I won't let you fall into the fryer at Burger World."

"See, it's these little personal touches, like preventing my untimely death on the night shift, that make this relationship so special."

"Shut up and let me finish. Even if I flip burgers forever and spend the rest of my life in this town, it won't matter as long as I have you with me. Will you stay?" Butt-Head grabbed his hand. "I'll treat you real good, and I'll do whatever you like, and if your mom needs you at home it's no big deal, I just -"

"Hey, hey, hey." Beavis took his face in both hands and looked him in the eyes. "I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to do anything special to keep me. I'm like an invasive species, y'know? You'll never be able to get rid of me."

"I don't want to get rid of you."

"Well, good, 'cos I'm sticking around." Beavis gave him another blink-and-you'll-miss-it kiss; Butt-Head feared he might explode and coat everyone with gore, which would ruin the party. Beavis let go of him and continued, "So, are we done with this undying love thing? I just saw that guy from shop class come back from his car with a backpack full of fireworks."

* * *

_a year later_

Mr. Van Driessen hadn't brought nearly enough bags for all his shopping. He staggered out of Target, huffing. His car was only twenty feet away, but it seemed as remote as the moon. He put down his groceries and groaned, trying to crick his spine back into shape.

A familiar voice behind him said, "Uhh, you need any help, sir?"

He turned around, rubbing his sore neck. 

"Butt-Head?"

"Yeah. You got a lot there, Mr. Van D."

"Oh my God - look at you! It's been too long! How have you been?"

Butt-Head reached down and grabbed a bag, lifting it with ease. "I'm alive, aren't I? Which one is your car again?"

"The blue one behind that pickup truck. Did you grow an inch? I'd swear you've gotten taller. What are you up to these days?"

Butt-Head was indeed taller. His braces were gone, and his eyes were bright with lucidity. "I, uh, I'm still working at Burger World," he said, trying to keep the groceries from toppling as they walked the short distance to Van Driessen's ancient Ford. "But I got promoted to supervisor. And I enrolled in community college. Culinary arts. The guys at work said they'd reimburse me if I learned to cook properly."

"That's great!" Van Driessen put down his bag to fish his keys out of his pocket. "And how's Beavis doing?"

"Oh, Beavis?" Butt-Head began twisting at a plain black ring on his left hand. "He's, uh, well. Decided to leave Burger World. Last I heard, some idiot at town hall let him start training him to be a firefighter."

"The last you heard?" Van Driessen gave him a look of pity. "It can be hard when friends walk a path that's different from yours, but you'll always have -"

"Mr. Van D, no. Beavis moved in with me. When I say "the last I heard", I mean at breakfast this morning. The letter came saying he'd passed the physical." 

"He moved in with you?" Van Driessen glanced at the ring. It looked like the kind of thing you'd fish out of a grabber machine. They were almost scams, those machines. You had to really want what was in them for it to be worth your while. "That's great news. I'm happy you guys are doing so well." He opened his car and popped the boot. "Well, thank you so much for your help. Give Beavis my best."

"Will do, Mr. Van D." Something in Butt-Head's pocket beeped; he took out his pager and checked it. "God damn it, the new kids at work better not have put insects in the fryer again. I gotta find a phone booth someplace. See you around." He jogged away, muttering.

Van Driessen watched him go. Footsteps sounded behind him; Coach Buzzcut appeared.

"Was that who I think it was?" he asked, watching Butt-Head's swiftly retreating back.

"It sure was." Van Driessen turned to him and smiled. "By the way, you owe me twenty dollars."

"What?"

"That bet we made on graduation day. I won."

Buzzcut sighed and helped him load up the groceries. "There's hope for us all, I suppose."

Van Driessen laughed and shut the boot. They drove away, still talking. Highland, not yet gentrified, seemed to ease itself into the clay-warm earth. It could hold them all without hurting them. It had happiness for them all wound up in its secret frontier heart, waiting to be unspooled like a crimson thread.


End file.
